


Minor Delays

by SunshineMoon (CaptainSpace)



Category: Kamen Rider Den-O
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 10:55:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16116956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSpace/pseuds/SunshineMoon
Summary: The Den-Liner has a crash, and Ryotaro has some doubts.





	Minor Delays

**Author's Note:**

> For Kelsey.

“So, have we learned anything?” Hana asked.

 

“Yeah!” Momotaros grunted as she peeled him off the wall, shaking him three-dimensional. “Don’t distract me when I’m driviiiiiIIIH!” His words gave way to a panicked yelp as she tossed him overarm back into the dining car, where Ryuutaros set upon his forehead with a plate in each hand.

 

“Stupid Momo! Stupid Momo craaashed!”

 

“The _lesson_ ,” Hana said, appearing in the doorway and jabbing a finger back at the gaping hole in the locomotive, “is the Den-Liner is not for doing ‘sweet tricks’!”

 

“Okay, okay already!” Momo sprang up, brushing off Ryuu and sliding over to where Urataros was sitting calmly. “It _was_ sweet while it lasted though, right?”

 

“Sweet…”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Incredibly sweet…”

 

“You really think so? Ha! At least _someone_ appreciates my skill—”

 

“This coffee!” Ura slammed his drink down. “Why is it always so sweet?! My teeth are going to fall out.”

 

Silence fell as Momo slumped to the floor in defeat, until Kintaros mumbled from his napping position across the car, “you don’t even...have teeth, beak-boy…”

 

“Ah...regardless, Naomi, do you think you could ever make some with a little less...icing?”

 

Naomi gave a disgusted look. “Make coffee without icing? Like a _barbarian_?”

 

“Um, uh…” Gradually, Ryotaro’s gentle voice broke through the ever-present storm of bickering. “I think we should just focus on fixing the Den-Liner...we can assign blame later.” He took in everyone’s pointed expressions. “...all right, we can blame Momotaros later.”

 

“The main problem is the bike,” Hana said. “It went flying into the crevice...Ura!”

 

“Me?”

 

“You.”

 

“...fine.” The Imagin slid out of his chair, sauntering towards the exit. “But I’ll need a volunteer.”

 

Momo realised all eyes were on him again. “...huh? Me? C’mon, you don’t all still blame me, do ya? I’m not workin’ with him! No way! No—”

 

 

* * *

  
  


“What a great bunch’a friends,” Momo grumbled, using Ura’s fishing-line to rappel down the cliff in Ryotaro’s body. “I do all the work already, so why not, I guess. Just leave it to Momotaros as usual!”

 

_Um...why am I here?_ Ryotaro hazarded.

 

“Case I need an extra pair of hands when I get down there.”

 

_But I don’t really have any strength at all…_

 

“...yeah.”

 

_You didn’t want to get lonely, right?_

 

“Hmph.”

 

“How’s it going down there?” came Ura’s voice from the top.

 

“A lot better if you’d stop shakin’ that thing around!” Momo yelled up the cliff. “Ahh, it’s enough to make ya miss the Rider War…”

  
  
  


* * *

 

 

 

“I would, if I could…” Ura was juggling the fishing-rod from one hand to the other to keep it away from Ryuu, who was giggling diving around after it with cries of “mine! mine!”

 

Hana clambered out of the hole in the train, hopping to the ground and instantly recoiling back from the edge. “Whoa...a few feet more and we’d all be at the bottom of that.”

 

“Quite the predicament!” Ura agreed. “Perhaps it was a mistake to leave our fate in the hands of those two.”

 

“If it’s too heavy for them I can head down, but they’re pretty reliable.”

 

“Well…” He sighed. “I can’t disagree, as long as they’re not around to hear me say it.”

  


* * *

  


“Right!” Reaching the end of the line, Momo hopped out of Ryotaro and to the ground, catching his flailing friend who hadn’t been expecting to regain control. “Should be somewhere around here...damn, it’s pretty dark.”

 

Standing up, Ryotaro unclipped a flashlight from his belt. “Here.”

 

“Oh! Good thought, thanks man.” Taking it, Momo began to prowl around, shining the beam in every crevice and under every pebble.

 

“Momotaros…”

 

“Huh?”

 

Ryotaro rocked back and forth, not wanting to look straight ahead. “I’m not a burden, am I?”

 

Momo stopped in his tracks, head craning around. “Where ya gettin’ that from? You’re the reason this whole operation exists!”

 

“Yeah, I know...and it _used_ to be like...but…”

 

“If you’re gonna say something, say it.”

 

Ryotaro sighed. “You don’t need me to become Den-O anymore. None of you do. And everyone’s friends now...don’t misunderstand, it’s not like I resent anyone. I love being with you guys. I just...don’t want to be a passenger who doesn’t contribute anything.”

 

Momo gave him a long, considered look, nodded once, and tossed the flashlight away over his shoulder. Then without a word, he stumbled off into the dark, resuming his search almost completely blind. Finally, he tripped on a jutting rock and fell onto his back, still without speaking.

 

“Momo—Momotaros!” Ryotaro ran after him, helping him up. “Are you all right?”

 

Momo turned and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “That there? That’s us without you. When it comes to being Den-O...the kid doesn’t know which way is up half the time, the bear’s a hundred years late to anything, the turtle can make the simplest thing stupid complicated, and I…” He swung an arm around to indicate their general situation. “I do stupid stuff like this.”

 

He went and picked up the flashlight, shining it into the dark. “You know what’s up, what’s right and wrong. We need ya, buddy.”

 

“Right...thank you. Let’s find the bike, okay?”

 

“Yeah!” Momo kept mumbling as they swept from wall to wall and boulder to boulder. “How far could it even have gone...man, why’re there even canyons in the fabric of time?!”

 

“I don’t know,” Ryotaro said, peering into a crevice. “Are you sure it went down here?”

 

“I mean...I guess? It must’ve, right?”

 

An engine roared above. At the top and bottom of the cliff, all heads turned to see Owner atop the missing bike, leaping it back towards the Den-Liner from the other side of the canyon and landing with a sharp half-turn beside the train, a cocked eyebrow breaking his otherwise deadset expression.

 

“Made a few assumptions, didn’t we?” he hummed. “Well, let’s be off.”

 

From far below, a cry echoed up, reverberating throughout the desert for miles in every direction.

 

“Are you freakin’ kidding meeeee?”


End file.
